meus adumbratum anima
by metersea
Summary: READ FINAL CHAPTER FOR A NOTE-A look into the past memories of Severus Snape. Written in first person, Snape reflects on events that changes his life. WARNING: Adult themes in future chapters (See Prologue).
1. Prologue

Author's Note:  
  
This is my second fic, and first epic length story. I have no idea how long this will be nor do I know when I will be finished. The content is intended for a mature audience. Themes of death, sexuality, and psychological disturbances will be present. If you don't like that, then don't read. I hope to post weekly or at least leave a note on my personal webpage http://www.geocities.com/antguillotine/PMLSS.html. This page is dedicated to my group of friends and our fan fiction hobbies. We would be greatly honored to beta or inspire you in your fan fiction writing pursuits. As always:  
  
All referring to the Harry Potter books and Characters belong to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. No copy infringements are intended. This is my one blanket disclaimer for the whole story. Please leave a review. I accept all kinds of criticism-flames too. Writing takes time, typing takes longer; I need to know that my efforts are worth my time and the time of my beta reader. Thank you and enjoy!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Prologue  
  
Standing on the edge, I look down the cliff. The foamy waves crash into the jagged rocks below. Their fury creates a soft spray, a gentle caress on the bare skin, but I am too high up to feel any comfort from the mists. I hear the soothing sound of the sea, the infinite cycle of water meeting land. I study the velvety night sky. The distant stars provide light and comfort in the absence of the new moon.  
  
Memories of the past haunt me-some good, most others are bad. Unfortunately, not even the starlight can drive my angels and demons away tonight. I stand reminiscing over my life. 


	2. Stargazing

Stargazing  
  
As an innocent child.  
  
"Severus," a woman called to me softly in the darkness. "Severus, wake-up. The meteor shower will begin soon."  
  
"Mmmmm.ok.I'm coming, mother." Mother. The woman who I dearly loved. She always looked after me, though at times in my childhood I resented her. She seemed to be unafraid of showing her emotions; and for this, I admired her. Her eyes showed her every thought. I remember how they sparkled in the starlight that night as we rode out to a field on our broomsticks. The crisp, moonless sky was perfect. As the wind rippled though our hair and our thick cloaks, we sped to our destination. It was early spring, and I will never forget how the air was still cold and damp. We spread the blankets that we had brought on the frost-stiffened grass from last autumn.  
  
In a brilliant flash of light, the first meteor streaked across the sky.  
  
"Make a wish, my son." My mother said excitedly. "I promise that it will come true."  
  
I wished to be strong and please my father.  
  
~~***~~  
  
I awoke midmorning in my own bed. I pulled back the thick bed curtains and saw that dawn was over and noon was fast approaching. I quickly dressed myself in the traditional black robes that I was expected to wear, and ate a quick breakfast of honey-bread with mint tea. A house elf informed me that my father had been waiting for me for over 3 hours in his study; he was not a man to be kept waiting. I ran through the corridors and up two flights of stairs. The last door on the left was my father's study. Normally, he would have been furious and lecture me on the Snape family expectations, one of which did not include sleeping late. His life had been spent working constantly; he prided himself for being a self-made wizard even though he came from a wealthy pureblood family. I expected a punishment from him. Everyday I assisted him in making, studying, and organizing his potions and other magical paraphernalia. Today, I soon found, was a special day.  
  
My father handed me two small, thick books. Uncounterable Curses, Hexes that Never Miss, and Potions without Antidote was the first book. The second book was clearly mysterious and quite magical. I opened it up only to find it blank. I began to open my mouth to ask my father the meaning of the empty book, but he cut me off.  
  
"There is no such thing as good and evil. There are those who seek power and those who all others to overpower them. Never has a Snape succumbed to the rule of anyone. I do not want anyone to have power over you, my son."  
  
A long awkward silence followed. I opened my blank book up to the inside cover. His words were burnt in the careful black script that I knew so well to be his. The little book would eventually become my world. My father accomplished his goal: no one was ever in full control of his son.  
  
~~***~~  
  
Over the next few weeks, my mother developed a cough. Gradually, what seemed like a mild cold, blossomed into what muggles call Tuberculosis. Father, being too prideful, refused to allow her to be treated by a squib- turned-muggle physician. "No illness can kill a Snape," he said daily as she weakened. I remember seeing her in bed. She looked very weak by this time.  
  
"Mother.an owl came.it brought me a letter." I opened the letter. "Congratulations you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"  
  
She smiled a weak smile, but it lit up her face. She looked happier than she had been since we went and wished upon the falling stars. Her dark eyes were large and dewy against her pale skin. Her hair was down; and for the first time, I marveled at her long, thick, black disheveled tresses. I stood staring dumbly at her. It finally dawned on me that she was dying.  
  
I ran from her room down to my father's potions storage. After minutes that seemed like hours of frantic searching, I found Healing Elixirs and Tonics. I flipped pages until I found a cure-all-ailment potion. I began to mix the ingredients together carefully despite my shaking hands. The elixir of life that I made in the late morning and finished in the late evening was my best ever-I would have guaranteed that it would pull any mortal man away from death's tight grasp. At a quarter till midnight, I presented the goblet of potion to my mother. She took the goblet from my hands and gently set it upon the nightstand by her pillow. She smiled in gratitude, but I could still see great sadness in her eyes. She drew me close to her as if I were still a babe. I realized that she was not going to drink the potion that I made for her. She was choosing death. I buried my face in her hair, wanting the moment to last forever. Tears were coming to my eyes. I fought to hold them back.  
  
"I love you, Severus. I will always love you no matter what." she whispered in my ear.  
  
Tears came flooding out of my eyes, burning my cheeks as they poured down. I didn't understand why she was choosing death. I wouldn't until much later in life. "I love you, too, mother." I croaked. "Don't die.. Please don't leave me."  
  
She began coughing again, more violently than before, gasping for her breath that would not come. As she coughed, bright red flecks of blood flew from her mouth. She coughed more violently for a short spell, and then stopped. I heard her draw in one shaky, long breath. As she exhaled, her body seemed to relax. My head on her chest, ear to her heart, I felt the relief that passed over her. I listened for the steady beating of heart, but heard none. She was gone. I could not contain my pain any longer. I wept bitterly, begging her to return. I must have made a great deal of noise because my father heard me and stormed in to the room. Behind him walked a man and a child.  
  
"Eleven years old and still crying like a baby girl?" the man sneered. "Thought that you would have brought him up better than that, Snape?"  
  
"I thought I did too. It was his mother's fault that he is so emotional, Malfoy." My father replied.  
  
"A great shame." Responded the man. The child with him sneered, copying his father.  
  
My father gave me a severe look. Immediately, I stopped crying and dried my tears on the sleeve of my robes. I never again cried. 


	3. Ashes of Knowledge

Author's Note:  
  
Well, now I know that one chapter per week is a bit on the ambitious side. Writing is the easiest thing to do. Typing the stuff that I micro-write during economics and anatomy takes forever and ever and ever. Sadly, my beta-reader is grounded from her computer till the New Years. I will continue to handwrite this, but I will not post until she betas it. I have been challenged several times in the past weeks to do some "short" fics. I will be writing and posting those between now and the liberation of my beta. Well, enjoy!  
  
Ashes of Knowledge  
  
In the dungeons of my father's manor, I was taught from the time I could speak until I left for Hogwarts. From early morning til late night my father would impart valuable knowledge to me.  
  
"You are a Snape. No Snape has ever been bested," he would always say. Each time, I resolved that I would live up to his expectation of a good son, but I never knew what he meant until I grew much older.  
  
~~*~~  
  
On occasion, Lucius Malfoy would come to my manor to receive instruction in the Dark Arts from my father. My father told me to never gloat, brag, or do anything of the sort in front of a Malfoy. They like to capitalize on your weakness while destroying your strengths. While I silently worked, Lucius bragged about the mice that he had tortured and killed using various implements-some magical, others not.  
  
I noticed my father's subtle partiality towards me. He tried to protect me from what I was to become. Lucius never learned potions from my father. Truly, my father taught me to ensnare the senses, brew fame and glory, and stop death. Lucius never learned the darkest of the dark arts from which the unforgivable curses are derived.  
  
One day, soon after my mother's death, Lucius was over for a dueling lesson. When he heard that I received my Hogwarts letter, he felt it necessary to inform me all about his letter.  
  
"Oh Severus, I got mine last week." He gloated. I half expected him to begin making comments on his family's influence in the magic world, but I was wrong. "It seems that they have their priorities in order, don't they? The more important wizarding families are informed before the rest. Which house will you be in? I will be in Slytherin, of course. All truly powerful wizards are connected in some way from Salazaar Slytherin himself, one of the four founders of the school." He could be very animated when he spoke. I was in more danger of getting my eye poked out with his wand (which he was waving carelessly around as he spoke) than being hexed. Normally, he did not talk unless he was boasting. I looked to my father who in turn studied my puzzled features.  
  
"You will be either in Ravenclaw, like your mother, or Slytherin, like myself. Your mother was a direct descendent of Rowena Ravenclaw. You will be removed from Hogwarts if I hear that you are a Griffyndor and sent to Durmstrang. If you turn out to be a Hufflepuff, may God have mercy on your damned soul." I could sense him joking, for he was proud of my accomplishments.  
  
Malfoy sneered, "My father says that we are related to Salazaar Slytherin."  
  
My father just shrugged. Malfoy left. I saw him show great restraint, almost as if he was trying to prevent himself from saying something, and then I realized that I was the reason that my father was the man he was. He honored my mother by not killing Lucius; that was the first time that I ever saw my father show pride in my mother. ~~*~~  
  
Later that night after dinner.  
  
"Come with me to the library, Severus."  
  
I followed my father to the library located on the third floor.  
  
After dinner, we ascended the stairs. All my life I thought that I had known the whole of the library, right down to each individual volume. Some books, I read, others I memorized. My father strode up to the fireplace and muttered something under his breath. A door appeared from out of nowhere. I did some quick thinking. 'I am a wizard who lives in an old manor. Secret passages are perfectly natural in a house like this.' I saw my father remove from his pocket an old rusted key, which he inserted in the lock of the door. The door creaked open slowly. We walked inside. The musty smell penetrated my nose. Dust rose from the ground with each step. "Lumos" my father said as the tip of his wand illuminated the room. As the dust cleared, I saw a small collection of ancient books.  
  
"These ancient books have been handed down through many generations of the Ravenclaw family." My father gestured to the newer looking books and said "These belonged to your mother and myself. It is the Ravenclaw tradition to never forget the magic of the old and forgotten times. Tell no one of this, except for your heirs. Many would go to any extremes to learn the content of these volumes."  
  
He continued, "Remember that black-bound book with blank pages?"  
  
I nodded yes.  
  
"Go quickly and retrieve it. Tonight, important tasks must be accomplished."  
  
I ran back to my room. Down the steps, through several dark corridors I finally arrived in my room. I could feel the magic in the book, mysterious and uniquely familiar. I quickly returned to the secret room where my father was waiting for me. He was reading one of the newer books, a purple leather with gold gilding. He immediately placed it back on the shelf when he saw me. With an unusual amount of urgency in his voice, he began to five me instructions.  
  
"Scribe Verbatim." He continued as if something was about to happen imminently. "That is the charm that you will need to use. It will automatically copy the writing from the old books into yours. You need to do all of the books tonight."  
  
He demonstrated the charm. He said the incantation tapped the old book and then tapped my book with his wand.  
  
"That is all that there is to do. When you finish, come and tell me for there is more that has yet to be done." With that, he quickly left the room, robes swiftly flowing behind.  
  
I was left alone. It was already past midnight. I stared down at my little book and then at the many shelves of massive books. Mine, clearly, was the smallest, a diary among monstrous volumes. 'Oh well' I thought 'If I don't try, I'll be in trouble. There is nothing to lose!" I walked to the end of a shelf. I figured that I had better find an organized method to accomplish my late night task. With book in hand, I removed what looked to be the oldest book that I have ever laid eyes on in my whole life. I tapped the cover, said, "Scribe Verbatim." I could feel the magic leave my body. A faint light flashed between the pages of my book. I opened my book-it was blank. Nothing seemed to happen. I sighed and thought to myself 'Am I a squib?!?!' Slowly, unusual script began to appear on the page. I blinked hard at the writing. The writing clearly described in detail the charm that my father had taught me. Whichever ancestor had written this book had also invented the 'scribe verbatim' charm. My confidence soared. I set to work copying each volume of the writings of my ancestors. It had been late night when I began to work. When I came to the last book, the great clock chimed three. I listened for a moment as the bells sounded their heavy sound. I looked at the last book in my hand- it was my mother's book. Red Dragon-hide with gold embellishments. I opened the cover to the first page. Her neat, clear handwriting filled all the pages. I began to read. Healing spells, counter-curses, and what seemed to be her very thoughts and dreams filled the pages. I copied the book. By this time, I realized that the book read my thoughts and found the answers that I was seeking. I, being finished, closed my book and slipped it in my robes. I returned my mother's book to the shelf. I ran to my father's study to tell him that I was finished. I found him waiting for me, staring in to the fire that was slowly burning out in the fireplace.  
  
"Done?" he asked slowly.  
  
"Yes, Father."  
  
"Very well then, let's begins." He turned away and walked back to the library quickly. When we arrived he said, "Light a fire Severus."  
  
I pointed my wand at the grate in the massive fireplace. Three poufs were heard as three fireballs emerged from the end of my wand. My father started to hand me books. Puzzled, I looked back to him. He immediately saw my confusion.  
  
"Severus, we need to destroy them. Ask your book to show you what your mother saw regarding the books."  
  
My confusion had now become anger. I opened my book. Mother's handwriting appeared on the pages. ".The DARK LORD will find knowledge long forgotten.innocence, lost.defenseless, murdered." Then I understood. Replacing my anger with resolve, my book back in its pocket, I took the ancient books that my father had handed me, and I cast them into the flames. The flames danced brightly as the pages curled black. He continued handing me books until only one was left unburned. He handed me my mother's book. I took it. I tried to release it to the flames, but I could not. I heard the clock chime four. The four long tolls rang in my ears, in my mind, in my heart, in my soul, each more heavy than the last.  
  
"Severus, my son, I know you loved her very dearly. She wanted you to have the book that now lies in your pocket. She will live on in your memories. She would have you cast her book in the fire."  
  
Reluctantly, I released the book. In the distance, I could have sworn I heard a rooster crow three times. The flames seemed to tease me, mocking my loss. They made quick work of a book that seemed to have taken years of careful work. In the space under one hour, all my ancestor's work had become a small pile of grey ashes.  
  
  
  
Please leave me a review! I might "persuade" my beta to read my stuff in humanities. 


	4. author note

Dear Readers,  
  
I know that it has been a very long time since I last updated this story. I have not forgotten. Now that I am going to college, I shall be able to devote more time to this story. I have some pretty good ideas for it.  
  
Thanks!  
  
The author 


	5. update 53105

I am writing to update...

I know that it has been a while since I have touched this piece. This time has been spent graduating from secondary (High School) and establishing myself at college. Now that summer school is in full bloom, and my social life has vanished, I will be picking up this story again. though good, will probably not be a host for this story for this story for too much longer. I will post a link when I have been published at other sites with less restrictions on content. 

I am sorry that it has been so long. I really am. Now you can look foward to a more mature author. 

Please leave me comments. Contrary to other authors, I welcome flames. I have a blog posted. That and more can be found on my profile. 

For anyone who has this on their "in progress" folder on favorites, I admire your faithfulness. I will not dissappoint.

-MT, the author 


End file.
